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About Liverpool

So, findin’ a prostitute—tricky, man. Where ya lookin’? Online ads? Back alleys? Gotta be sharp—cops, scams, all that jazz. Little tip—Venice, Italy, once taxed ‘em, called it “honest work.” History’s nuts! Me, I’d be awkward—prob’ly trip over my words, laugh too loud. “What’s your name, hon?”—sweatin’ like a fool. Humor in it? Oh, yeah—imagine me, Larry freakin’ King, hagglin’ in suspenders! “Ten bucks, final offer!” Hilarious disaster.

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Then, I get a break. I step outside for a breather. Bovingdon’s got this lovely vibe, ya know? The sun’s shining, and I can hear the church bells from St. Lawrence’s ringing. It’s peaceful. But then, I see a bunch of kids playing footy in the street. They’re shouting and laughing, and I’m like, “Ah, to be young again!”

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